Link's Awakening
by G01den Unicorn 11
Summary: Novelization. Y'all know the story.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N:_ I don't care about this nearly as much as Consuming Desert. You'll get the odd scene here and there when I feel like it. Want to finish up my baby before I put a lot of effort into something new.

 **On trigger warnings:** I wish to accommodate any readers who suffer from PTSD without spoiling any dramatic tension for those who don't. Thus, any trigger warnings that may or may not appear in this story will occur at the **bottom** of the chapter. Yell at me if I miss something important.

* * *

 **Scene i**

Marin skipped down to the beach, her bare feet squelching in the fresh mud. The air was brisk and fresh in the storm's aftermath. Water droplets beaded on the scraggly vegetation that managed to survive in the poor soil. She'd watched the entire show of flickering lightning from her open window. But the best part came after. The best part was looking for any loot that might've washed up on the beach.

When the signpost marking the official edge of Toronbo Shores came into view, she broke into a full sprint. Once on the beach, she dug in her heels and skidded to a rough halt.

 _Somebody_ was on the shore. That was odd. She knew everyone on the island, but none of them had a green getup like that. And there was also that battered shield on the man's back. It was covered in scrapes and gouges, like he'd actually _used_ it!

She ought to go tell Tarin, but she found herself moving closer. The poor fellow had a gash on his brow. Somebody had to see to that. And, as no one else was around, that made it her responsibility.

"You'd better have a good story to tell in exchange for this, mister," she said, squatting down to grasp him under the armpits. He was smaller than most of the men on the island, but he sure was _dense_.

"C'mon, Marin, lift with your legs. That's what you've got 'em for," she muttered to herself as she heaved him onto his heels. She craned her neck around to see behind her and began to drag.

The man stank like rotted fish, and she was sure that at least some of the damp on his tunic came from sweat, not sea. She thought that would be the worst of it, but then his boots went and caught on every rock and stick buried under the sand.

That wouldn't work. She let him drop, then remembered his head at the last minute and caught it before it hit the ground. Then, she burrowed her shoulders under his torso. She grabbed an arm and a leg to stabilize him, then stood up, letting her frame take all his weight.

It still sucked, but she could move better. Which was good, because she had to climb a hill to get home.

"Ain't this backwards from how it's supposed to be?" she grumbled, beginning the trudge.

On the way back, she saw strange tracks in the mud. Looked like some sharp claws digging into the ground, but then a smooth mush in the middle where the whatever-it-was dragged its body. Or something. "Well, I'll just have to get to know _you_ later," she said to the whatever-it-was.

Mabe village was right on top of the long slope going down to the sea. Specifically, it was right on top of the steepest part of the slope. By the time Marin had struggled up it, she figured she was soaked enough she may as well have just been out in the storm in the first place.

"Tarin," she sang, with just a hint of vibrato. "I hope you're ready for company."

The farmer's head rose into view above the garden fence. The top of his head was balding, but the front of it had a brown mustache that seemed to grow thicker by the week.

"Company? Marin, you know- What in tarnation?" He reeled backward as she carried the injured boy across the threshold.

"It's just scratch or two. Fetch me a washcloth?

"Er…"

"Oh, honestly Tarin, ya'd think _you_ were the one all beat up." She dumped the boy on her bed and rolled her shoulders, free of the weight. "The _washcloth_ , Tarin."

"Oh, uh yeah!"

He handed it over, and she began wiping off the dried blood. "Reckon he'll need a stitch or two," she muttered. "How silly do you have to be to stay out in _that_?"

The boy turned in his sleep. Marin gently held his arm in place as she continued to clean. He moaned faintly through half-opened lips.

"Why yes, I expect that does sting a bit," she told him. "Hang in there, bucko. You look like the kinda fellow who's used to this thing. Tarin, prop that door open. We need some air in here."


	2. Chapter 2

**scene ii**

Link awoke in a daze of grogginess and pain. Rough threaded sheets scraped against a pair of new scars across his chest. He tried to lift his throbbing head, but found it too heavy for his neck.

Strands of hair fell across his cheek. "Z… Zelda?" he croaked, blinking his eyes open.

"Name's Marin," the woman said, trickling water into his throat. "Tarin and I thought you'd never wake! Reckon you can sit up, honey?"

Marin bent down and snaked an arm behind his head, as if to support him. Reflexively, Link pushed her back, then forced himself into a sitting position.

He took his first good look at her. Calloused fingers; a blue dress, adorned with flowers and made of hardy fabric; sun-darkened skin, and broad at the shoulders. The woman worked, but was not one of the most desperate peasants of Hyrule. Less likely to rob him, then. If he had anything left worth stealing.

"There you go, Link," she said. "I see you've been banged up before, so I won't go say anything silly like "take it easy."" She giggled.

Link narrowed his eyes. "How do you know my name?"

"This your shield, ain't it?" said a third voice. Link turned his head toward a squat, balding man, who offered a shy smile from beneath his consuming mustache. "Found it where you washed up. Got yer name on the back."

Link took the proffered wooden shield. It had chipped somewhat, but nothing a good carpenter couldn't fix.

"Aye, this is mine," Link said. "Thank you for retrieving it."

He paused. "Was there a sword?"

Marin and Tarin glanced at each. "Well with all the rubbish that comes in with the storm, I could very well have missed it," Marin said.

Link grunted and pushed to his feet. His upper body wavered, until he forced himself to stand tall. Taking halting steps with stiff legs, he staggered to the door.

"And you are _not_ going off hunting it like that," Marin said.

Link stopped, his hand on the door's latch. "I will endeavor to repay your hospitality once I retrieve my sword."

Marin stormed out the door behind him. "I ain't carrying your ass back off the beach again, mister. That time, you were unlucky. Now, you're just dumb."

Somehow, it felt familiar for a girl to be calling him an idiot. He couldn't say why, though. In fact, he couldn't recall a single thing since before the shipwreck. Well, it would come back, or it wouldn't. No use worrying.

"You said rubbish always washes up after a storm. That means there's going to be scavengers. I'd rather not have to buy it back at half again its value, and I would not ask you to go in my stead."

"Please, I know which end of a sword to hold."

He shrugged it off. There were certain things that always ought to be done by oneself, no matter the circumstances.

They came to the top of a steep slope of loose soil, descending some ten feet at an angle that may as well have been vertical in his conditions.

"I don't suppose you could help support me as we descend?" he asked.

Marin crossed her arms. "Oh, so now you realize you're over head. What would you do if I made you wait until you were healed proper?"

Link shrugged. "Never mind then." He sat down, with his legs dangling on the slope in front of him. Hardly a heroic descent, but he could crawl down on his butt without hurting again.

"Oh, get up!" Marin hauled him to his feet by his forearm, and threw it around her shoulders. Her right hand slid around his back and grasped his belt. "You're getting back up on your own. You know that, right?"

"I am grateful for any assistance," Link said.

They hobbled down together, with agonizing slowness. Each step was a battle against gravity and the shifting dirt beneath them. Halfway down, Link's foot landed on a large pebble that sent his foot sliding forward. As his center of mass shifted dangerously forward, Marin hauled him back so hard they almost both fell backwards. For an over-stretched moment they grasped at each other with adrenaline-fueled grips as they fought to stay standing.

They settled, and Link exhaled. "Thank you."

"Watch where you put your damn feet."

At the bottom of the slope, they were finally at the beach. Toronbo Shores, Marin called it. Littered with driftwood, rusted metal, and a swarm of other objects Link couldn't recognize. He figured if he looked hard enough, he could find the remains of whatever ship he'd been on. And then, running in between the rubbish…

"What are those tracks? No animal I've ever seen."

"You know, I was thinking the same thing when I picked you up," Marin said. "Never seen 'em before. Must be big-ish."

"Bipedal," Link said. That usually meant monsters. All the more reason to find his sword.

They traversed the beach for hours, until his body screamed for energy, and his lips began to dry out. But we was not about to let her see him complain. Judging by her look of pained determination, she felt much the same.

As he was about to give up, the glimmer of the setting sun caught his eye. He turned to see the sword lying on the ground, the tide lapping at its hilt.

"About time you found it," Marin grumbled as he led her over. He lifted it, and the old weight seemed to invigorate him. Through years of training, the feel of the sword brought him to his warrior's posture, standing defiant against the very decay of the universe.

"Thank you for all your help," he said. "You've saved more than my life.


End file.
